Himself: He’s doggedly applying for jobs. Three yesterday. Today he volunteers. This morning, just a quick cleanup for early morning decorating visitors.
Herself: House doesn’t look half bad, Even the bed is made….”This side of the bed doesn’t have any sheet,” he began. Begin moving out of the pantry this morning.
Balance: A moment of sunshine first thing this morning.
Those four doors, two up and two down, at the far end of out kitchen comprise our inaccessible pantry. I admit, my long arm has a big struggle reaching to the ends of those shelves, and things like sugar, flour, or rice have gotten lost deep in those recesses more than once.
One of the projects the Geeeee-zer said he would do while unemployed was replace that unusable block of shelves. Yesterday we picked up a unit at Ikea that we can just slide in to the space. Oh, he will have to hack off the top, and too, there will be an extra four inches on one side. He will be building a series of small shelves where baking and roasting pans can slide in and out of that extra space.
Imagine, not long struggle to get that baking sheet out from under three others, unentangled from the enchilada pan, and out from the jam with the mixer. Heaven.
Yes, this kitchen was designed by a male architect who didn’t think much about cooking. Perhaps he didn’t cook. Perhaps he thought other folks didn’t cook much in the seventies. Julia Child had begun her attack on the American cooks with the French Chef in 1963…well before he designed these condo’s. He should have known better.
We will fix that.